DS Survival
by Thor2000
Summary: William Collins, the son of Barnabas and Angelique Collins is dead and his widow has left Collinsport. It is now up to the rest of the family to struggle through his absence and death.


It was her choice to not see this house again. Ally McBeal-Collins stood in the driveway of what had been the home of her and her husband for almost five years and loaded the back of the car with everything she wanted to take. Trying to summarize her life into as few boxes as possible was going to be hard, even harder now that she did not have a husband with her anymore. Her storybook marriage was wonderful for what of it lasted, but now, her husband was dead and buried and she had a life to get back to. It was not going to happen in this town.

"I can't wait to see Aunt Lainey again!" Lainey Collins looked up at her mother. "She promised to make my hair just like hers!"

"No, she is not!" Ally shoved another suitcase into the trunk of the car. "Get back in the car."

"Okay…" The little girl ran around the corner of the car and jumped in the back seat as her mother closed the trunk. Ally grunted as the hatch closed on her car. She pulled it lightly to see if it would keep for the long drive and then looked for her daughters in the back seat. Lainey was there combing the hair of her doll, but her other daughter was missing.

"Where's Georgia?"

"She's playing in the backyard." Lainey confessed distantly.

Ally gasped a second and stood up straight.

"Stay in the car…" She told Lainey. "Georgia!!!" She called as loud as she could. She didn't hear anything. She just turned on her heel and marched past her husband's abandoned trans-am left to sit alone by the house. She put one step on the stairway up to the back veranda of the house and peeked over the high wall as in a distance she saw her daughter swinging on the swings. She called again as loud as she could, but the girl just ignored her. Ally marched a few steps higher and called again in a hurry to leave and then realized what was going on. The child was trying to tempt her patience. She just kept swinging back and forth without a care in the world as her mother tried to swallow her anger and forced herself closer. Her determination was unfathomable and her will was to be untaxed as she came closer to the small brunette child.

"Georgia, we have to go…"

"I don't wanna go!" The girl stuck her lip out.

"Honey," Ally started firmly. "I promised your Uncle Richard I would be there on Monday. We have to leave now!"

"But daddy won't know where we are!" Georgia was just a mop top of brunette hair swinging back and forth.

"Baby…" Ally's eyes watched her swaying back and forth. "This isn't like daddy's trips. He is not coming back. He is gone. We lost him."

"You made him go away." Georgia Collins snapped back with a child's temper and irreverence.

"Georgia," Ally was losing her temper. "Don't be doing this to me. This is going to be hard enough as it is…" Her voice cracked a bit as her grief returned compounded by her daughter's defiance.

"I ain't going!!!" The six-year-old's mouth snapped viciously as Ally's eyes flared. She grabbed the chain of the swing to stop it as her daughter shot her an angry sneer. She felt her little wrist wrapped around by her mother's hand as she was pulled off the swing forcibly. She almost hit the ground, but her mother pulled her up and tried to get her feet to stand on the ground. Georgia just balked and pulled and tried to break free as her mother pulled her across the thick grass and up the short steps on to the back patio. Her hair waved and swayed everywhere as she tried to escape.

"I ain't going! I ain't going!!!" Her voice kept screaming.

"Get in the car!!!"

"No!!!"

Lainey looked over the front seat and out the windshield as her sister fought and slapped her mother. She even lit up as she watched her sister kick their mother in the leg, but that didn't make their mother didn't let go of georgia. The screaming and the yelling could be heard in the car as Ally started to open the door to the backseat and hold on to Georgia.

"Get in the car!!!"

"No!!!"

"If Georgia doesn't have to go, I don't want to go…" Lainey screamed out as everything happened at once.

"Stay in the car!!!" Ally ordered as Georgia broke free and scampered up to the front yard and the bushes. A sound of frustrated anger came from Ally as she turned round to the fleeing child and then heard the crackle of leaves behind her. A hurried red jaguar had turned into the driveway and braked blocking her white Saab in the driveway. The driver's side door popped open and the engine idled as Angelique Collins popped out on to her feet. She stared at Ally a second a bit upset, her breath hissing discreetly through her teeth as she pulled her disturbed hair out of her face. She slammed her car door shut and advanced closer to confront her daughter-in-law.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked Ally distraughtly. "Are you trying to sneak out of town without telling me?!"

"Don't make this any harder on me…." Ally glared fiercely back to her. The lady lawyer turned to the wide front yard. "Georgia, get your ass in the car!!!!"

"Ally," Angelique forced her son's wife to look at her. "Please, don't make this harder on me! My son has barely been buried for a month and now you're trying to sneak out of town with my grandchildren? How insensitive can you be?!"

"Look!" Ally snapped back. "I can't stay here. If I'm going to get my life back, I have to go back to Boston! If I stay here, I will go nuts."

"Ally, you're a Collins now, you have…"

"No!!" Ally screamed at her mother-in-law. "I can't live here and constantly be reminded of what I lost. Don't you know how hard this is for me…" Her eyes started tearing up as her chin trembled. "I need to get my life back! There is nothing here for me except memories. He was my husband and now he's gone!!!"

Lainey lowered her doll as she watched her mother's emotional outburst. Things had turned into a mess since her father had left. She didn't understand it, but she definitely felt the absence of his presence and all the turmoil it was causing.

"He was my first born son!" Angelique screamed back. "I loved and cared for him long before you did. Damn you, Ally! You think because you lost someone close to you that you 're the only one!! You are trying to hurt me and I don't deserve it. I have done everything to try and help you. Why else would you be trying to sneak out of town without telling I or Barnabas?!"

"Because I knew you'd try and stop me!" Ally roared through her tears. "I have to get out of here and… Georgia, get your ass back here!!!" She yelled blindly to the bushes before the house. The place was locked up tighter than a drum so the girl couldn't get back inside, but somehow she knew the child was nearby. Angelique just gasped and brushed her hair back with the palm of her hand. She strolled half way up the walk and stopped on the top step. She dropped, knelt and held her arms open as Georgia rushed out to her grandmother and became wrapped in her arms. Crying over her shoulder, she felt herself lifted up as Angelique carried the child back down the steps.

"Ally, I'll make you a deal." The former sorceress glared at her daughter-in-law vehemently. "I won't stand in your way to go to Boston if you let Georgia stay here to grow up."

"No," Ally scowled refusing to let her first-born be ransomed like that. "I want my daughters with me" She spoke sternly as if there was no unwavering on this rule.

"Ally!" Angelique hugged her granddaughter tightly in her arms. "You can't up root Georgia like that. She has friends and playmates here. It's going to be hard on you with one child; do you want to go through it with two?!!"

Ally stood unwavering as a tear dropped from her face. She clenched her jaw and furled her fists as she tried to think less as a mother and more like a lawyer. What was the best thing for her daughter here? Dragging her against her will to Boston or leaving her in the loving home her husband had been raised in? She faltered a bit as she sniffed her nose and fell apart emotionally. Silently watching the adults, even Lainey wondered what was going to happen next. She heard a loud groan from her mother as her she opened her car door and reached in and hit the button for the trunk. As it popped up, Ally stood up straight and walked back to the trunk and pulled out a suitcase.

"Here are some of her clothes…" She cried a bit. "Her toys are still locked up in the house. Sara has the key. She's had breakfast, but don't give her lunch later than twelve otherwise she won't take her nap."

"Thank you, Ally…" Angelique's tears turned to tears of joy.

"And you…" Ally reached to her daughter's face. She caressed her little pointed chin as her big brown eyes looked up. "You be good to your grandmother and I'll be back to visit."

Georgia didn't say anything as she clung to her grandmother. She stared back at her mother with the spoiled look of a Collins child. Placed inside her grandmother's car, she sat in the passenger side seat and watched as her suitcase was placed in the backseat. Angelique did her seatbelt and then her own after getting in the car. The car was placed into drive as Georgia stared coldly to her mother and watched as things changed between them. Ally's heart broke as her first-born child left her life and hoped it was for the best.

CHAPTER TWO

Anyone else would have thought it was a beautiful spring day. The sun was high in the sky and there was not a sign of a cloud anywhere. A red kite was buffeted by the winds coming from the sea and the distant sound of cars traveling down Collins Road permeated the estate known as Collinwood. Quentin Collins pulled open the wrought iron gate on the family cemetery and lightly strolled in past the markers of Collins Family members known and forgotten. Caleb Collins rested near the entrance and the ashes of Desmond Collins rested inside a tall marble obelisk nearly in the center. The oak marked the location of the first Jamison Collins and his wife, Joan Edmonds-Collins. Quentin's hand graciously acknowledged the granite stone that marked the resting place of his nephew. Usually when he strolled in, he walked straight over Edward to pay his respect to his long-dead sister Judith, but today, he respected them both to pay homage to the newest interment. Crouching to the ground, he pulled the weeds and dry mulch obscuring one specific marker marking a grave. The new grass had yet to grow over the overturned dirt baked hard by the sun. Barely a month old, the granite stone read simply, "Amanda Jennifer Collins, December 1, 1975 – August 13, 2005. May she find in death the peace she looked for in life."

"Hi princess," Quentin sat back on a small bench in front of her grave and stared at the marker. 'Um, sorry, I'm late, but your mother wanted me to run her to the aerobics center. It seems her car isn't running again, so pretty much nothing has changed." He sighed as the sun poking through the trees momentarily blinded him. He pulled his graying hair back as he stared at the marker.

"Not much to tell you today," he continued. "Not much of the family's talking to each other. I guess we're still trying to get over the shock of losing both you and William. Now, I know you thought I liked the boys best, but, honey, the truth is…" His voice cracked again. "I just didn't know how to raise a daughter. I knew enough about sports and camping to spend time with the boys, but your mother… she raised you from the start to be a little lady and I didn't know how to handle that. I loved you as much as a father could, but we just didn't have anything in common. Now, I don't know if it was my fault for not noticing you, or Jamison's for destroying any self-esteem you ever had, but…" He couldn't figure out what he was trying to say.

"I miss you, sweetheart…" Tears dropped from his eyes. "If I had but known how much you were hurting, I'd have done anything to make you happy." He whined miserably as his voice cracked. The pain of his dead daughter's grave was hurting him more than anything else he had ever gone through.

"William might not have loved you the way you wanted, but he did care about you." Quentin groaned in emotional turmoil. "He was your cousin and a happily married man. My god, did you not realize how much of a hole you were placing in this family by eliminating the two of you? I don't know what hit me worse: you taking his life or you taking your own? Were your feelings for him that strong you could not live without him that much? Amanda, you were daddy's little girl, and you never bothered to tell me you were hurting!" He tried to clear the lump in his throat. "I miss you, princess." He placed his hand against her name and tried to will her back, but it seemed whatever force had taken her was not going to allow it. Deep in his mind, her wondered if her restless spirit wandered Collinwood with the other ghosts. He lifted his head heavenward.

"Judith, Jenny…" He gritted his teeth in heartache. "Please, please, tell my daughter that I miss her." He lifted himself up and took a minute to deal with the grief killing him. His daughter was the first funeral he had ever attended since his brother Carl. He had outlived Edward, Judith and his little brother Benjamin thanks to the Tate painting, but that was all over with. He commiserated briefly on the past as he turned back toward the entrance of the family plot. Strolling past Judith and Edward once more, he tried to erase his tears as his ears picked up the sound of scuffling on the road outside the family plot. Wondering if it were one of the groundskeepers, he turned around as he recognized Barnabas strolling back on to the estate. Apparently back on his way from visiting his son at Eagle Hill off the estate, the mourning father held his head low and occasionally rapped at the paved driveway with his cane. Clad in his usual wrap, he strolled closer and closer as his somber gait took him past the family plot.

"Barnabas," Quentin spoke to him finally after what seemed like months. "May I walk with you?"

"Of course, Quentin." Barnabas replied lightly. Quentin started walking side by side with him as the main house came into view in the hill beyond the tree line, but Barnabas was starting to lag behind just a few feet. All he had to do was slow his pace to stay side by side with him.

"Barnabas," Quentin started talking. "We haven't spoke since the funerals. You're not… upset with me, are you? I mean, my daughter killed your son."

"Well," Barnabas responded hesitantly. "Maybe I was briefly, but then I realized it was not your fault. Amanda was obviously very confused and trying to figure out what she wanted. I doubt she knew what had happened until it was too late. I can't blame you or her, but merely the circumstances."

The walk up the hill was a steep one, but it wasn't one they hadn't done over a million times before. The roof of the Old House poked up out of the distant trees, but from where they stood they could see the distant geometric pattern of the buildings and lanes in town. Twenty years ago, it would have been time for a certain former vampire to climb out of his coffin and curse at the certain timeless witch that had cursed him. The irony was that he was now happily married to that now former witch. Quentin would be eluding romance for fear of what he could be, but now he was a happily married hundred and thirty year old man in the body of a fifty-something old man. Two curses had been destroyed in this once tormented family tree and now they were forced to suffer the same foibles as every other mortal man.

"William was as grand a son as any man could want…" Barnabas continued talking as they neared the main house. "He had a wonderful life and a beautiful family, and I shall miss him as much as any father who outlives a son." His voice choked on his words. "Without him, Collinwood will now belong to another Jamison Collins once more."

"No, " Quentin paused as the former vampire stopped. "I had a long talk about it with my son and he agreed that since he had a major role in Amanda's mental breakdown that he did not want to inherit Collinwood that way. The estate will pass on to either Sara or J.R."

"J.R. in control of Collinwood?" Barnabas shuddered at the thought. The son of Willie and Carolyn Loomis was more than known by non-family members for numerous arrests concerning vandalism, public mischief and other sorts of delinquency. He had faked crop circles, sold scantly clad photos of his female cousins, distributed term papers to his underclassmen and placed hidden cameras and microphones in his sister's slumber parties. The youth was either going to be the king of practical jokers or a major felon. As opportunistic as anyone could be, the young man had not exactly endeared himself to anyone in the family.

"I know what you mean." Quentin understood Barnabas' apprehension. "J.R. is very much like Carl was. I do not exactly relish the idea of Collinwood in his hands after we are long gone."

"I am going to have to have a long talk with Willie and Carolyn about their son." Barnabas quickened his pace for the house.

CHAPTER THREE

Angelique moved around the dining table of the Old House as the faces of Joshua and Naomi Collins watched her. They were grateful to see their son happy at last after numerous years of lamented misery and even with Angelique as a daughter-in-law in a time so far from their own they finally rested in peace. The former witch counted five place settings for dinner as she set the table and then paused back through the swinging doors to check her cooked peppers and cooking vegetables. This was the way things should have been even if they were two hundred years after the fact. Happily married to her true love, she had loved being a mother, she had excelled being a grandmother and now she got to be a mother-in-law again. Her daughter Sara after a long on and off again relationship had finally married the son of the late Joe Haskell. Although having given up a son for a son-in-law was going to be a bit hard to accept, she instead looked forward to more babies and more grandchildren.

"Barnabas?" She heard a noise out in the parlor.

"I'm here." Her husband paused inside the front door to hang his cane and frock. He turned toward her to give her a kiss then turned to his chair to read until dinner, but Angelique stopped him. Her beautiful azure eyes gazed into his emotional brown eyes and tried to raise his spirits over the recent tragedies in her life.

"Darling," She beamed toward him. "In addition to our son and daughter, we will be having a lovely young lady at dinner tonight."

"Oh," Barnabas thumbed his book. "One of our daughter's friends?"

"Not quite," His wife responded covertly. "Georgia, our granddaughter."

"Well, that's a wonderful choice." Barnabas shined. "I would like to talk to Ally and see if…"

"Not quite," Angelique corrected him. "Ally decided she could not live here in Collinsport and moved back to be with her friends at the law firm. She took Lainey with her, but Georgia will be living with us. I moved her into William's old room."

"Ally left Collinsport?" Barnabas was upset by the news.

"You know she loved William dearly." Angelique lost a tear as she regretted the choice. "Staying here in town was too painful for her. She wanted to take both the girls, but… Georgia refused to go."

"I can't say that I don't regret the choice." Barnabas sat down in his chair by the fireplace. He started to open his book, but then he noticed something dancing down the steps. It was a short brunette pixie with curly dark hair and big round brown eyes. She scurried up to him with childish glee and jumped into his lap.

"Hi grandpa!!" The six year old cried out. "Grandma said I could live here!"

"And I'm so glad!" Barnabas's eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened as he spoke in a singsong voice. "I would not have preferred it any other way!"

"Will you read to me?" She pushed a book she had been carrying toward him. Barnabas glanced to Angelique glowing over the sight of them and then back to the child's eager waiting face. It was an image he could not refuse.

"It would be an honor…" He shined as she snuggled up against him. Memories of his own daughter being this little returned to him as Angelique returned to prepare dinner. Laying aside his Hemingway book, he instead started reading about rabbits and ducks and talking flowers.

CHAPTER FOUR

Carolyn Stoddard-Loomis lifted her head from her baked trout and looked out at the table. It was a small crowd tonight. Her daughter, Lizzie, poked at her mashed potatoes and peas and leaned back in her chair as her figure jutted through her black sweater. Her brother, J.R. clanged at the pan for the last of the brussel sprouts across from her as next to him, Willie sipped his milk with his dinner and looked up to the last Collins family youth. Fourteen-year-old Chris Loomis had his head in a book as he occasionally placed it aside for a bite of food. Looking around the room, Willie recalled when this room could be full of extended family members, so much so that all the little ones would be grouped at a second table. Since the recent funerals, it seemed the family was slowly drifting apart.

"It's so quiet." Willie observed as J.R. clanged for more vegetables.

"Almost." Lizzie glared at her hated brother.

"Give it time," Carolyn dabbed at her sauce with a roll as a servant emerged from the kitchen and collected dirty dishes. "As soon as the mourning is over, things ought to return to a semblance of whatever passes for normal around here." She leaned back as Charlotte waited to take J.R's plate. The attractive housekeeper placed the dirty dishes on a cart and then handed out the desserts.

"More coffee, Mr. Loomis?"

"Please." He answered as Charlotte filled his cup and then pushed the cart back into the kitchen.

"My god," Carolyn leaned back as her eyes panned the room. "It seems like just yesterday that William followed me around getting in to trouble. I can't believe he's now gone."

"He always had a big crush on you." Willie answered as Chris looked up.

"He did?"

"Yes," Carolyn gazed briefly to her daughter then to her son. "While Jamison and J.R. mooned around Angelique, William had an infatuation on your own mother."

"I don't remember that." J.R. admitted as he started eating his cheesecake.

"Must have driven Aunt Maggie crazy that no had a crush on her." Lizzie grinned with a devilish irony.

"Maggie went through it with your Uncle David." Carolyn confessed. "When William was little, he was always making me gifts and presents. If I find one of them again, I'll show it to you."

"When's Ally going to read Williams's will?" Lizzie asked.

"I hope I got his train." J.R. looked forward to it.

"I hope I got his Madonna stuff." Lizzie responded back.

"Hey, hey…" Willie was a bit disgusted at the vultures his kids were becoming. "Your cousin's barely in the ground a month and all you two want to know what he left you. I didn't raise you two to think like that. Ally might not have it read for another year. If anything, you two might want to see what you can do to help her."

"Might have to go to Boston for that." Chris finished his dessert first. "I heard Ally left town to live in Boston. She's not coming back."

"Oh my god," Carolyn clutched her heart. "She's taking losing him worse than I thought."

"How'd you hear this?" Willie sipped his coffee. He looked across to his youngest son as he placed his cup aside.

"Ally told Sara, Sara told Joe, Joe told Becky, Becky told me."

"The Collins Family Communications system." Lizzie remarked sarcastically. It was well known that anything told to anyone in town was never a secret. Most of everything that happened in town was spread from the Collins Family to the Haskell Family and then it was public news. If the story did not start with the Collins Family, then it wasn't true.

"Sometimes I think the Haskell Family knows too much of what goes around here." Carolyn dropped into a brief stare across the table and out to the gallery. She recalled what it was like to date Joe and then lose him to Maggie. When he departed Windcliff, she thought they'd just get together all over again, but then he ended up married to Roxanne, Willie's former fiancée. Sometimes it seemed as if her life was a big soap opera. When Joe died in 1985, it seemed as if all his former girlfriends left articles of clothing at his grave. He was just the sort of heartbreaker William was. History had repeated itself and Collinsport had lost another of its favorite sons.

"Where are Joe and Sara going to live now?" Lizzie pumped her baby brother for details. "The Old House?"

"Barnabas and that Haskell kid as his son-in-law under the same roof." Willie mumbled with a chuckle at the concept as Carolyn gave him a look.

"I think they're getting William's house at Seaview." J.R. guessed. In the back of his mind, he suddenly recalled on a promise he, William and Jamison had made a long time ago as potential felons. If one of them ever got killed bungee jumping on the cliffs, expanding a cave on the estate or blown up on an explosion gone wrong, the other two were suppose to get in contact with the third in a séance. He gazed derisively at his sister and looked around as he dumped his utensils in his plate.

"I got to call Jamison." He rose quickly as Carolyn was snapped from her trance from his abrupt departure. Lizzie checked her watch.

"I've got a date with Russell." Lizzie rose a bit more ladylike and gave her mother a kiss. "You're still taking me to New York with you, right?"

"Of course." Carolyn watched the blonde one prance out for her date as she primped herself up. Watching Lizzie hike up her breasts and smooth out her skirt, her eyes turned to Chris as he marked his place in his Harry Potter book and pushed his chair in under the table.

"I'm on the computer." He replied before leaving.

"One hour only." Carolyn told him as she started to stand herself, but Willie lovingly took her hand and stopped her. Sitting back down, she took her seat again as her husband moved to their son's chair.

"Just a second," Willie spoke covertly. "Barnabas spoke to me before dinner. He wants to have a talk with us about who will inherit Collinwood now that William is gone."

"I hadn't thought about it." Carolyn placed her hands together as if she was praying and reflected a second with her fingertips parallel to her lips. "Well, Jamison is the one next in line."

"No," Willie leaned closer. "Jamison's feeling guilty about his involvement in Amanda's mental breakdown. He doesn't want it so that just leaves…."

"J.R. of course…" Carolyn thought logically then realized Barnabas's fears. "Ohhhhhhh, I see what he's scared of. Now, of course, this is a long way off, but you know our son could still develop some responsibility in the mean time…"

"J.R. ?" Willie stayed skeptical. "J.R. My-mother-is-owner-of-Collinwood-and-I can-get-away-with-anything Loomis? Look, he's my son too and I've got faith in him to grow up myself, but just last week he returned to his old high school and detailed Principal Karlen's car with racing stripes. The boy is on the short way to becoming a talk show host or something."

"Uhhhhhh," Carolyn rolled her eyes. "Give him time. He has got to realize sooner or later that life is not one big joke."

"Jamison?" J.R. was on the phone in the drawing room as he checked for his parents. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

"A little bit," Jamison was in his father's den in Rose Cottage. "What do you want?"

"Well," J.R. nervously checked the foyer again and the back hall to the dining room. "Do you recall that after death pact we made with William?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"You still got the keys to his house?"

"Yeah."

"Well," J.R. smirked as he couldn't believe he was planning this. "I'll get the candles and the Ouija board you bring the keys to his house about noon. You know, I always believe in keeping a promise, and a promise is a promise…"

CHAPTER FIVE

"I can't believe we are doing this." Jamison sweated a bit. It was a hot broiling day and there was barely any wind. The sun was practically straight up and he and his often spaced-out cousin were about to participate in what sixty percent of Collinsport jokingly called "the favorite Collins Family Activity." To tell the truth, there had been relative few séances in the history of the house known as Collinwood, but since the house had been named one of the top ten haunted locations in New England, it was just assumed that the family had séance on a regular basis. Jamison had never seen anything in the house he was convinced was the ghost of Josette Collins, Victoria Winters, Jeremiah Collins, the Reverend Trask or any of the other twelve or so reported ghosts supposedly felt in the house in the last fifty years. William was the only ghost hunter in the family and he was perfectly willing to let him be the last.

"Let's look at it like this." Russell Coleman had been a fellow football player with Jamison at Collinsport High, but he had always been more William's friend than Jamison's. "William spent fifteen years visiting every haunted site he could trying to prove ghosts exist and he died without ever finding inconvertible proof. Now, it is up to us, his best friends, to try and get in touch with him in the chance he is waiting to get in touch with us."

"Hear, hear," J.R. carried the box of candles and the ouija board. "Now, let's unlock that door and unravel the secrets of the universe."

"I'm too old for this crap." Jamison walked up the once primly trimmed walkway to the front doors of the house. The vacant windows seemed to be staring down on the three young men as the advanced on the house. Each of them recalled in their youth breaking windows with rocks here or climbing through windows to run loose in the house, but now they felt as if they were kids again. William and his wife had made this house a home. Their children's voices echoed through the place. Furniture covered in white sheets could be seen through the windows and the yard was still the home of forgotten children's toys. J.R. noticed a doll in the window of his nieces' room staring down at them as if it was watching him. He wasn't doing anything wrong, but he was seriously spooked already.

Jamison clicked the key in the front lock as he pushed the doors open. The front entrance spread open as if they were the huge mouth of a great beast. The homey feel of their best friend's home was now replaced with the cold clutching grasp of a murder scene. Jamison was having second thoughts. He loved horror movies as much as the rest guy, but now he heard his conscience or an imaginary viewer screaming, "Don't go in there!"

"Tales from the Crypt!!!!" J.R. shrieked out loud with a shrill laugh as his mouth vibrated out of sync with his laugh as if he were that bony television puppet. Jamison jumped at the sudden impromptu impression and grabbed his cousin by the collar.

"I'm going to break your neck if you don't treat this with respect." Jamison glared angrily. He knew it was more his fault for his sister killing his cousin more than anything. He had matured quickly on the guilt, but it was more than obvious that the fact had not hit J.R. yet.

"Come on guys," Russell's feet entered the house. He gazed into the parlor on the left and then the living room on the right. The mahogany staircase descended to the upstairs on his right side as he tried the lights. Nothing was working. The power was off.

"We'll do this in his study." Russell continued forward. "He practically lived in there."

"Where he died?" Jamison cringed. "Guys, can you sense the bad taste in this?"

"Who died and made you the voice of reason?' J.R. mumbled, but Jamison just glared right back at him. It had been William who used to get them out of trouble. "Oh yeah…"

Russell had pulled the round table closer to the middle of the room and then chose three chairs to sit in at it. J.R. pulled the curtains in the back windows closed to block out the light as Jamison lit the first candle in the center of the table. A squeaking noise came from William's desk as Russell rolled up in his buddy's old desk chair. A few more lit candles later, J.R. pulled the sliding doors shut and then turned to sit down himself to the table.

"Okay," Jamison apprehensively sighed as he sat. "I'm going to run this. We'll try to contact him for thirty minutes…"

"An hour." J.R. requested.

"Thirty minutes…" Jamison declared forcibly. "And if we don't get anything, we'll leave, agreed?"

"Agreed." Russell didn't want to admit this place was giving him the creeps. He glared toward J.R. a second as the planchette of the Ouija board emerged. They placed one finger each on it as the candles cast wide illumination across the room. Even in the middle of the day, this old house preyed on their primal fears. They started wondering how Ally and William could stand sleeping here for six years.

"What if we get Caleb Collins?" J.R. asked. Caleb had built this house in the Nineteenth century and was reportedly the first ghost of the house.

"Then he can give William the message." Russell replied casually as Jamison rolled his eyes. Wondering what to do next, he cleared his throat, swallowed his fear and stared at the dimly lit board.

"William," He replied out loud. "Are you there?"

The house stayed quiet.

"Are there ghosts in this house?" Russell asked the room. They heard nothing but the wind picking up outside and the sound of tree limbs stroking the house like the gnarled fingers of undead corpses. A faint whistle came from the attic as Jamison quickly set his watch for thirty minutes and replaced his hands. He looked to Russell and J.R. and then exhaled again as he waited for something to happen.

"William," Jamison lightly shook his head as if he was ashamed of his girl-chasing past. "I'm so sorry. It's my fault you died. I should have been a better brother to Amanda. If had but known, I would have… tried to be a better person."

"Wait a second," Russell leaned over the table. "It was Amanda who killed William? I thought a burglar did it."

"The family was a bit ashamed of what happened." J.R. looked up as the candlelight reflected in his blue eyes. "Amanda had feelings for him she could not get over. It sort of drove her crazy."

"You can't tell anyone, Rus." Jamison confided in him. "It has to be a secret."

"Not a problem," Russell looked around the room. "If I can keep our stuff secret, I can keep anything secret. My god, sweet harmless Amanda? She was so quiet."

"Yeah, quiet," J.R. removed his fingers last from the planchette as it slid across the room by itself and vanished somewhere on the floor. All eyes turned to where it disappeared as they recoiled from the feat. Jamison noticed something else. His head cocked up as he sniffed the room.

"Lavender?" He tasted the air. He had terrorized Amanda for years for leaving her bedroom smelling like it. "Oh my god, no…."

"Are you sure?"

"I know that scent!!!" Jamison bolted up as Russell realized he was no longer having fun. J.R. beat him to grab the candles and blow them out as they hurried to depart the house. It was finally getting to them as the three of them ran into each other to get out. In the scant light, Jamison pulled open the doors to the front of the house. Something else got his attention as he stared right toward the dining room. Russell bumped into him as J.R. paused and peered down to the dining room.

Sitting up straight at the far end of the table was Amanda Jennifer Collins. Her long curly red hair was much redder than they recalled, but she appeared to be remorsefully trapped in a state of depression as if dying had done nothing to stop her misery. If anything, it seemed to have made things worse as she was forced to live out eternity regretting what she had done. She was staring straight ahead out the back of the house, but somehow she realized she was being watched. As her cousins and old boyfriend wondered if she was possibly still alive, her head slowly turned to peer right back at them. Ethereally beautiful, she face curled back into a demented mentally challenged grin and blank stare.

"Amanda…" Jamison could barely move as Russell and J.R. stormed out screaming. "I'm sorry…" She looked as if she had truly lost it as he refused to stare at her another minute. He realized he was alone and reverted to being a quarterback as he ripped himself from the house. Charging out at full barrel, he noticed Russell and J.R. hurriedly pulling out in his truck as he took a running jump and landed on the outside step of the cab. He was still climbing through the window as Russell swerved to miss the Monte Carlo entering the drive.

"Jamison!!!" Sara Collins-Haskell screamed at her relatives. "What the hell are you doing here?" She watched them speeding away like a bat out of hell as her new husband stretched his head to see where they going. That adrenaline rush passed as he shook his head and drove on to the property.

"What were they doing here?" He wondered out loud.

"What else?" Sara was just a bit disgusted. "Looting the place. I should have had Ally take up all the extra keys." Her brand new husband grinned toward her and assuaded her fears. Sara Victoria Collins-Haskell beamed ear to ear at the happy future she expected before her as her brother's house came into view. Joe Randall Haskell Jr. was beaming a bit too. Everyone thought he and Sara looked like Freddie Prinze Jr. and Sara Michelle Gellar so it was only right that they should get together. As she left from the car, Sarah hurried up the walk and stared at the front doors hanging open.

"They've been in there all right." She hissed. "I'm going to kill them!"

"Forget that," Joe lifted her up. "Mrs. Haskell, we are home." Sara giggled in his arms at how romantic he was now. She dreamed of five children with him and as big a romance as her brother had with Ally here. As he carried her across the threshold, she gave him a big giggling kiss.

"It's dark and spooky here." Sara dropped to her feet. "Go turn on the power and I'll try to see what they took."

"Right." Joe recalled the fuse box down near William's pool table. As he headed to the basement door under the stairs, he accidentally kicked a box as a few smoking candles rolled out.

"Honey?" Joe called his beautiful blonde wife. "It looks like they were trying to burn the house down." He continued on his way and felt his way down the stairs. Sara made a displeased note and started rehearsing under breath her complaint to her parents. She dumped the candles in the box and then reached for the loose sheet of wood. As she flipped it over, she felt a chill. It was an Ouija board. A certain bit of apprehension overwhelmed her as she now knew what had occurred. Suddenly, her brother's house was not the place she wanted to be. The chandelier in the foyer flickered to life as Joe found the fuse box.

"I got it." He called up from the basement.

"Right." Sara was no more feeling like any TV vampire slayer but more like a movie heroine with an animated Great Dane. She peered nervously into the empty dining room, past her brother's study and then noticed the curtains pulled down. Her feet scooted over quickly as she hastened to pull them open hurriedly to get some sunshine in, but as she did, she thought she wasn't alone. Even in the heat from the window, she could not elude the chill in her back.

"William, is that you?" She cringed a bit. From somewhere, she heard a pitiful crying. It seemed to be near the desk. That was where Amanda's body was when she was found. She was apparently miserable. Sara could only scoot a bit a bit slower than the way she entered as she avoided looking at the desk. She did not want to see any ghosts. Backing out, she closed her eyes from the things she might see and pulled the doors closed. Hands embraced her as she shrieked.

"I'm sorry." Joe pulled her tight. "Did I scare you?"

"A bit," Sara trembled a bit. "Joe, this feels wrong. I can't take my brother's house like this. Maybe we ought to make other arrangements."

"But Ally gave us the house."

"My family has a lot of houses!" Sara dragged Joe from the house. He swung the door shut behind him as they departed, but it just bounced off the other door and swung open again. As Joe and Sara drove away, the door hung open as their car left a spray of loose gravel in its wake. A few minutes passed as the door standing open pulled itself into place and clicked into place. A second later, the lock twisted itself closed.

PART SIX

Carolyn sat at the little Victorian desk in the drawing room paying the house expenses for water, heat and the telephone as her late mother once did. Lifting her cup of tea to her lips, she sipped a bit and then placed it aside for another sugar cookie to snack out. On the phone bill, she perused the long distance calls for a moment as someone's voice echoed through the house.

"I'm cold…"

"Put on a sweater, but lay off the thermostat." She cried back. Wondering which of her kids was calling the Britney Spears Hot-Line, she tapped the table with her pen out of distraction as the voice called once more.

"I'm cold…." The voice echoed through the estate mournfully as if it came from a grave.

"Who is that?" Carolyn turned and called back out a bit annoyed.

"Ally, is that you?" The voice sounded lonely. A shudder of fear possessed Carolyn as she rose slowly from the desk. Turning on her heel, she pulled one of the drawing room doors open as she looked to the figure out front. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized William Collins hovering near the portrait of his ancestor Barnabas Collins. His skin was white and his clothes were deteriorating. His pale complexion was horribly pock marked as if it were rotting away and he moved slowly and stiffly as his joints stiffened on him. Carolyn lifted her hands to her face in terrified shock.

"Aunt Carrie…" He moved toward her.

"No, no…." Carolyn refused to acknowledge what she was seeing as she stepped backward in fear. "This can't be! You're dead!"

"I'm cold." William reached weakly to her. "Where's Ally?"

"Look," Carolyn bumped the sofa as she backed scared for her life to the window seat. "J.R. and Jamison promised to stay away from your house, now for the love of heaven and earth, please, return to your grave." The petite blonde heiress trembled as tears fell from her eyes as she feared his touch.

"Where's my wife??" He reached out to her as her leg bumped the piano seat.

"Don't touch me…" Carolyn whimpered as if she was a child again. "Don't touch me…"

"But I'm cold, Aunt Carrie…" He pinned her against the wall. "Please… hold me till she gets back…" His hands reached for her.

Carolyn Stoddard-Loomis jerked awake as she looked around the hotel lounge. The sounds of Manhattan at night resounded through the window behind her and a few other people looked up to her as snapped awake from her nap. Things back home were obviously taking their toll on her mind and on her dreams as she gasped lightly and turned to her daughter.

"Mom," Lizzie looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure honey," Carolyn picked up her bottle of water to take a sip and refreshen herself. "Did they call you yet?"

"No…." Lizzie looked around the twenty or fifty other people waiting to get through and wonder if she still had a chance. The reality of the situation was taking a toll on her confidence as yet another person emerged from the far doors crying and clutching at their parents. It seemed as if no one was getting through and she now began wondering if she was wasting her time.

"If you want me to quit, I'll go back to the hotel now with you." Lizzie looked up with her big blue eyes and short blonde hair. "I don't think it's going to happen."

"Honey," Carolyn shifted in her seat and pulled her daughter close. "You've been singing since you could talk. Don't give up on your dream. If it doesn't happen here, I'll find a way to make it happen elsewhere. This isn't the only way. You've got what it takes to make it."

"You think so…." Lizzie lightly paced as she insecurely gazed back.

"Honey," Carolyn beamed to her girl. "Your name may be Loomis, but you've got the Collins spirit."

"Number 7640…." Someone called as Carolyn looked at her daughter's number. It was 7640. She was next! Lizzie nervously fretted back and forth as Carolyn stood, primped a bit and gave her a supportive kiss. A deep breath for confidence, Lizzie stepped forward toward the management assistants. A brief look back, her mother gave her another silent sign of support as she turned back around.

"Okay," A young lady with a clipboard pointed to the door. "Down the hall and stop at the end. Mr. Seacrest will send you through."

"Okay," Lizzie felt a bit giddy as she realized what was happening. The door was opened for her as she stepped through and proudly marched forward to her destiny. Mustering up her teenage resolve, she held on to it and became ensconced in her determination. Before her, she looked up as a cameraman turned to her to her first obstacle.

"Hi!" Ryan Seacrest grinned to her with his usual grin. ""You must be Lizzie Loomis. Are you nervous?"

"Just a little…" Lizzie giggled under her breath. It was really him! She had had a crush on him from a far and now he was here in person before her.

"You know what I usually do before I send the contestants in is try and get them relaxed before they encounter the judges." Ryan taped the pre-interview. "They can be pretty merciless."

"I know."

"Especially the British one on the end." Ryan grinned as Lizzie cracked up. An assistant opened the door and listened through some headgear as they gestured to Lizzie. The blonde one paused to take another big breath as Ryan beamed to her again.

"Where are you from for the folks back home?"

"Collinsport, Maine."

"Really," Seacrest was intrigued. "Isn't that where that Sixties series Dark Shadows was filmed?"

"Never heard of it." Lizzie rolled her eyes a bit confused.

"So, " He tilted the microphone to her. "Are you the next American Idol?"

"I sure hope so." Lizzie answered as he gave her a supportive hug. As she pulled away, he turned to do his usual thing for the camera and a hand guided her through a curtain. Emerging into a hard wood studio overlooking New York City at night, she was whispered to stand on the mark before the table. Simon Cowell noticed her first and Paula Abdul set aside her Diet Pepsi. Randy Jackson leaned back in his seat board on this blonde bubbly young lady and wondered if she was all looks and no talent. Lizzie looked back at all of them trying to present herself as best as possible, but right now, they all looked as if they were about ready to cancel the next season in the middle of the auditions.

"So…." Simon wanted to knock her grin right off. "Lizzie. Anyone ever call you Elizabeth or do you prefer Lizzie?"

"I prefer Lizzie." The Collins heiress revealed.

"Interesting bio you filled out." Randy started before Paula could say anything. "You've won eight talent shows. Do you think that's going to help you here?"

"I think so." Lizzie grinned foolishly as Abdul rolled her eyes.

"We'll see," Simon folded his arms across his chest. "What are you going to sing for us?"

"Madonna, Like a Virgin."

"Another Madonna song?" Paula mumbled under her breath. What was it that made every female Idol wanna-be think they could be the next Madonna, Britney or J-Lo?

"I made it through the wilderness…." Lizzie started copying her perfected high school act gesture for gesture as she had done several times over. "Somehow I made it through…. Didn't know how lost I was until I found you. I was beat… incomplete. I'd been had…." Simon raised his hand to stop her. Randy just stared at her and Paula dropped her pen as she surrendered. After three seasons, it seamed as if they had milked all the talent that there was. This fifth season was going to worse than the previous two seasons combined.

"I'm sorry." Simon Cowell leaned back disgustedly in his chair and rounded his eyes to fight the boredom. "But you're not getting very far the same tired Madonna impersonation you've been doing. Let me put it like this, we've seen Kelly Clarkson, Clay Aiken, Kimberly Locke, Reuben Studdard, George Huff… Every year the bar gets raised from the year before… We are looking for now the best of the best of the best and… this country has nothing left."

"Girl, dog…" Randy continued as Lizzie stood shattered. ""That was like boring. I was like thinking, So What? We've heard it all before. Even Madonna can't do Madonna any more and you're here trying to copy her."

"You know," Paula noticed Lizzie starting to cry. "The problem they're not telling you is that you're not being yourself. You've got a good voice, but you've got that song memorized pitch for pitch. Come on show us your real self. Give us the real Lizzie! Do you know any other songs?"

"Not really…" Lizzie was on the verge of bawling.

"I'm sorry, but…"

"Wait," Lizzie interrupted him and began doing a few short lyrics. She didn't know the singer, but she knew part of the song to get by. "It must have been cold there in my shadow…" Her voice stammered nervously as if she were trying to hold on for dear life. "To never have sunlight on your face. You've been content to let me shine; you always walked a step behind…."

Simon gasped disgusted as Lizzie kept going on. Randy stared at her disapprovingly as Paula sat stunned and a bit intrigued.

"I was the one with all the glory, while you were the one with all the strength." Lizzie forced herself on as her real voice came out. "Only a face without a name and I never once heard you complain….

"Did you ever know that you're my hero?

"And everything I'd like to be…

"I could fly higher than an eagle…

"Cause you are the wind beneath my wings…" Lizzie slowed to a stop. That was all she knew of that song. Simon, Paula and Randy stared at her with the same dull perfection, but it was Paula who grinned first.

"You found your voice." She shined. "Forget doing Madonna, girl, if you keep being Lizzie Loomis, you could go all the way."

"I agree." Randy started. "You were shaky starting out and a bit pitchy, but you really got some pipes, girl. I mean, I got the shivers. Now, you still need a lot of work, but I think you proved yourself. I say Hollywood."

Lizzie turned to Simon.

"I'm sorry," He started. "But I'm afraid we're stuck with you in Hollywood."

Carolyn was drifting off to sleep as the loud shriek of delight came from beyond the wall. She looked up as her daughter came racing out of the hall with her figure bouncing before her. Hugging and squeezing Ryan Seacrest, she turned to her mom screaming at the top of her lungs and bouncing up and down over her head.

"I made it!!! I made it!!!!" Lizzie screamed hysterically.

"Oh my god!!!" Carolyn never felt closer to her daughter than before. She squeezed her tight as Ryan Seacrest tried to get in some words.

"You must be Mrs. Loomis." He held the microphone to her. "So what do you think? Is this what you were expecting?"

"She's always been singing!!" Carolyn replied as Lizzie was too happy to settle down. "I was expecting for the worse, but I think this is a very welcome surprise. We've had two tragedies in our family recently and this is just the thing to get the family back on the right track."

"I'm going to Hollywood!!!!!" Lizzie held her tickets up and screamed to the heavens.

END


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